Hidden in the Shrubberies
by barneyrockz
Summary: Something dark has taken residence in Sir Walter's shrubberies and he is determined to get rid of it. First he needs to discover the weakness. What is IT? What could IT be?


**Whenever I hear the word shrubbery the Monty Python skit always pops straight into my mind, now was no exception. If you've never seen Monty Python and the Holy Grail I suggest (very strongly) that you drop whatever it is you are doing and watch it, buy it, rent it, stream it, order it or find some way of procuring it. I believe it to be the greatest comedy film of all time.**

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"_I don't like the idea of my shrubberies being always approachable."_

It had always been thought by the neighbors of Kellynch Hall that Sir Walter Elliot was perhaps a bit _too_ protective of his shrubberies. And there were of course some very strange rumors about those particular plants. Some felt that it was a kind of unhealthy attachment, while others believed that something of value was hidden within their leafy depths. There were still others who believed that the shrubberies were haunted. None of the neighbors could have even imagined that something worse than ghosts resided in the shrubberies but, indeed, what lived in the shrubberies was much worse.

There had been those, of course, who tried to discover the secrets of the shrubberies. They hoped for treasure, adventure or even a scandal. What they found no one knew. They would not speak of anything they had seen, growing deathly pale at any mention of it.

Sir Walter strode out into his grounds at midday, reluctantly heading in the direction of the shrubberies. He would try to remove those _creatures_ from _his _shrubberies. It was not the first time he had tried, but he begged God that it would be the last.

Sir Walter had done everything he could think of. He had threatened, ordered, demanded and (though he would not admit to it) pleaded. Yet, they stayed. He could not get rid of them.

Suddenly a chorus of voices sounded from all around him, all saying the same thing.

"Ni!" Sir Walter cringed a little, but he had heard the word often enough to be less affected by it. He glanced around him and saw the dense fog around them.

"We are the knights who say… Ni!" The head knight's final word was echoed by his followers. Sir Walter simply let out an exasperated sigh.

"Yes, yes, I know that," Sir Walter grumbled irritably.

"Keepers of the sacred words: ni, peng and nee-wum!" The knight had continued as though Sir Walter had not spoken. His speech was almost practiced. "The knights who say ni," again an echoing of "ni" came from around them, "demand a sacrifice."

"And what exactly would that entail?" Sir Walter asked in a bored tone.

"We want," the knight paused for dramatic effect, "a shrubbery!" Sir Walter found the ending rather anticlimactic.

"A shrubbery? You must be joking. Do you not have enough shrubberies? You have forced many people into giving them to you." Another, louder, chorus of "ni" followed this. Sir Walter could not help but cringe at this.

"You will bring us a shrubbery," demanded the knight again, "or you will never leave these grounds alive."

"What will happen if I get you this… shrubbery?"

"Be sure to get one that looks nice," was the reply Sir Walter received. He exhaled in another, longer, more exasperated sigh.

"Of course."

"And not too expensive."

"That is ridiculous." Sir Walter would be damned before he lowered himself to buy a shrubbery for these unwashed and rather ugly fellows. Anyway, where was he even supposed to look? It wasn't as if many shrubbers just happened to be passing through the area at this time of year.

"Then," the knight continued, his voice rising in both volume and pitch, "for your next test, you will chop down the mightiest tree on these grounds with," again there was a dramatic pause, "a herring!"

"A _what_?"

"Ni! Ni! Ni!" Sir Walter was forced to cringe again as the dreaded word echoed around him.

"I will not," he cried over the shouts of "ni". "It can't be done." All at once the knights gasped and cringed as though they were in pain.

"Don't say that word!"

"What word?"

"I cannot say."

"How can I not say the word," Sir Walter reasoned, "if you don't tell me what it is?" Again the knights cringed collectively, letting out cries of pain.

"Again!" As the knights recovered, Sir Walter allowed himself a small smirk. Perhaps there was a better way to get rid of these pests.

"What, is?"

"No," the head knight scoffed, "we wouldn't get far in life not saying is."

"Then what? I don't get it." The knights cringed again. "It?" They cringed much more violently this time.

"He said it again," the head knight cried, before coming to the shocking revelation that he himself had spoken the dreaded word. "Wait, I said it. I said it again!" Mass confusion followed this. Knights scattered in all directions, but it hardly mattered to Sir Walter. As long as they stayed out of his grounds all would be well. Now he had to decide what to do with the shrubberies.

As he walked leisurely back to the house, Sir Walter took the time to truly look at the shrubberies and found they had a nice two level effect with a path running down the middle. Perhaps he would leave them as they were.


End file.
